Reaching the wall, Rey extended a hand.
Holger accepted it and gave it a sturdy shake. “I cannot decide why you look so familiar,” said Holger, examining Rey’s face in the torchlight.
Rey forced his limbs to relax. “I’m certain we’ve never met, my lordship.” The words felt clumsy on his tongue, and Rey stumbled over what to say next.
But realization had settled in Holger’s face. “You’re a Galtung.”
A premonitory ache grew in Rey’s throat. “Aye,” he croaked.
“I knew your father,” said Holger, stroking his long beard. “We fought shoulder to shoulder when—” The jarl sighed, sorrow settling in his face. He did not need to finish the sentence for Rey toknow he thought of the Urkans’ landing. The battle his father did not return from.
“He was a good man, your father,” continued Holger, before launching into a story about the chaos they’d caused behind Urkan lines.
As Rey listened, his discomfort eased just a touch. Holger did not speak to him as though he were lesser, and they had common ground. As the jarl wrapped up his story, Rey prepared to make his ask. A better man would play the dance of words—would ease into things—but it was not who Rey was. Instead, he broached the topic with the subtlety of a broadsword.
“I would call on your history with my father, Jarl Holger. You’ve seen the refugees. Have heard the tales they carry. We need good men to fight with us in the Western Woods.”
Jarl Holger chuckled softly, staring up at night’s first stars. “In these matters, you’re direct. More like your mother than your father, I suppose.” The jarl exhaled heavily, and Rey felt the man choosing his words. “I have seen the refugees. I have heard their tales. I’ve also heard tellings of giant serpents in the north.” The jarl paused. “Strange happenings indeed. Alone, they might merely be oddities. But together…together they tell an alarming story.”
Holger laid a hand on Rey’s arm. “I tell you this in honor of your father, and because I respect that you’re not the sort to play games.” Jarl Holger’s jaw hardened. “This is where I stand. I arrived with doubt in my heart—doubt that the girl Hakon had unearthed was truly Eisa Volsik. But the moment I saw her at the feast, I knew she was who he claimed. I can see it in her eyes and her hair; in the scar beside her eye; and, strangely, in the way she moves her hands when speaking. For a moment, I thought that at last our prayers had come true—that Íseldur had hope of becoming whole once more.”
Rey braced himself for what came next.
“But I sense something dark in her—something she keeps from us. And I cannot place my faith in a leader, no matter their name, when they hide truths from me. I will send a warband to fight withyou in the woods, Reynir Galtung, but I do it foryou.For your father. And for this strangeness I sense sweeping across our lands.”
Rey was filled with a mixture of gratitude and worry. He wanted to explain about Myrkur—about Queen Svalla’s bargain gone awry. But it was not his truth to share, and so he forced a smile. Clasped Jarl Holger’s hand again.
“My thanks, Jarl Holger,” said Rey.
And as they turned toward the fortress entryway, for the first time in weeks, Rey felt the stirrings of hope. Holger had spoken to Rey as an equal. Had taken his request seriously. And Holger would send warriors, which would certainly help sway the other jarls. Rey might just muster the men he needed to do battle in the heartwood.
But as they walked beneath Ashfall’s portcullis, Runný came rushing forward, a look of panic on her face.
“What is it?” demanded Rey, the fine hairs on his arms lifting.
“Eisa,” said Runný, gaze darting everywhere. “She’s gone missing.”
Chapter 38
A dull ring began in Rey’s ears as Runný’s words penetrated his skull.
“What,” he ground out, “do you mean Eisa ismissing?”
How could she be missing when he’d seen her only moments ago? Rey’s conversation with Jarl Holger could only have lasted ten minutes. But a lot could happen in ten minutes—things he refused to consider.
“She seemed fine.” Runný ran a hand down her face. “We cleared her chambers, and she went inside. But then we heard her shout and feared an assassin had gained entry to her rooms. The door was barricaded, and by the time we got inside, she was gone.”
The ring grew louder, blocking out all else. Runný’s mouth was moving, yet her words no longer reached him. There was only anger and bone-deep fear.
“Do you think an assassin took her?” Rey asked in a hoarse voice. “Buthow?” He shook his head. “It does not matter how. They can’t have gone far. We must comb the fortress.”
“Ingvarr leads a search party in the northern wing,” said Runný.
“Then we shall take the south,” said Rey, striding through Ashfall’s entry hall. Runný’s soft footsteps came from his left, but Rey faltered at the heavier gait on his right. He paused. Faced Jarl Holger.
“You needn’t join us, Jarl,” said Rey carefully.
“On the contrary,” said Jarl Holger, “I think that I must.”
